


Thrice the Pleasure for the Price of One

by Ownsariver



Series: Ownsariver's porn trilogy [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Multi, Threesome - F/F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-02
Updated: 2013-07-02
Packaged: 2017-12-17 12:00:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/867283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ownsariver/pseuds/Ownsariver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written in answer to Luna's prompt in a comment fic meme at sansaxsandor a loooong while back:<br/><i>Porny prompt: Since Sansa needs to keep her maidenhead, she buys Sandor a whore and supervises and/or participates.</i></p><p>Now gone through and upgraded as I work myself back into writing mode after half a year's break ;-)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thrice the Pleasure for the Price of One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lunar_art](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=lunar_art).



> Warning:  
> No excuses... simply hardcore porn written for the fun of it... Don`t read it if you faint at the thought of Sandor fucking someone else than Sansa.
> 
> Part two of Ownsariver's porn trilogy.

Sansa sat at their table in the common room reflecting that something had changed between Sandor and herself. The last few hours of sharing Stranger before they had reached the inn not far from Bitterbridge had been one long, resonating arousal, surging higher and higher until the both of them had had trouble sitting straight in the saddle. Sansa didn`t quite know what she`d expected after Sandor had returned from the forest, looking her straight in the eyes, something definitely sated in the way he`d moved and how his lips had twisted into a wry half-grin at the blush blossoming in her cheeks. 

After she`d behaved so wantonly, she couldn`t blame him for not believing her innocent enough not to understand exactly what he`d been doing. But what he didn`t know was that she also blushed because the thought of Sandor Clegane stroking his manhood and reaching his release thinking of _her_ had made her arousal surge hot and strong again. But Ser Jaime had sent them a scrutinising look as they caught up with him and Brienne, and kept glancing sideways at Sandor as they rode, forcing both of them to improve on their earlier behaviour. Naturally, they had been in quite a state when they finally reached their destination. 

Walking beside her as they were showed to their rooms, Sandor had kept looking at her as he carried their saddlebags over one shoulder and repeatedly tugged his coat straight without needing to. Despite her septa’s careful training, Sansa had found herself grinning shyly up at him at that, blushing with want for feeling what he was trying to conceal up against her body again. It wasn`t exactly helped by the way Sandor had grinned ruefully back down at her through a curtain of straight black hair, so impressively tall and large and as thrillingly intimidating as ever. The way his swordbelt hung low on his hips, his long strides and muscular body somehow _completed_ by the twisted scar-tissue on his face simply made him so breathlessly _exciting_ now that she knew what he could make her body do. 

They had ended up standing side by side as a servant droned on about supper and accommodations, Brienne looking interested enough, Jaime arrogantly bored – all the while Sandor and herself kept stirring each other up to the point where she had started to think it would become noticeable, just by standing beside each other. His hand had been so temptingly close to hers and her whole being had been in a frenzy, even if she`d tried to conceal it. Stepping half a step in front of him had seemed so simple, stroking his fingers lightly with her fingertips hidden in the folds of their cloaks even easier. Exploring his calloused hand, feeling his response in how he entwined his fingers with hers, stroking her tentatively, had sent shivers of lust through her body. 

Sandor’s face had been blankly impassive, his stance solid, but the way he`d looked down at her with so much need in his grey eyes had made Sansa feel a rush of new wetness between her legs. She`d tried to control her breathing as he`d grinned mockingly down at her, probably _knowing_ she stood there wet and wanting for him, annoyingly enough. But he`d kept their arousing exploring a dirty secret, just increasing the longing in her as they exchanged glances before he followed Jaime to their room, leaving her alone with Brienne. 

Sitting at their table Sansa knew she couldn`t act on that of course. Her maidenhead needed to be preserved at all costs, as her only contribution to the north and her dead family was securing a strong political match and a good, capable lord for Winterfell. She`d tried to tell herself that she would calm down after getting a bath and nice clean clothes on: returning her to proper lady behaviour again and away from such dirty thoughts and surprisingly strong lust for a scarred retainer with an impressively bad reputation.

Unfortunately, it hadn`t worked at all. And now, after an agonizing meal where Brienne and Jaime talked about something completely uninteresting, Sandor answering in grunts whenever they tried to engage him - and the two of them staring at each other at every possible moment with heavy, pulsing need shining just below the surface - Sansa felt her small clothes clinging again and wanted nothing more than to lose the rest of her innocence right that instant. 

Sandor seemed to have reached a point where frustration was beginning to take over. Looking increasingly grumpily down in his wine, he knew just as well as she did that he would not get what he wanted from her. He kept looking at her, though, the intensity of his gaze roaming over her body feeling like a caress, and his sheer force of presence making her body respond even more. He didn`t even take his eyes off her when it became obvious that the serving wenches served a great deal more than food and drinks at this inn. Still, he needed something more than glances, that much was clear as glass. 

Brienne retreated to their rooms first, as ignorant of Ser Jaime’s long glances as only she could be. Jaime seemed to struggle with himself in about two seconds before shrugging his shoulders and wishing Sansa a good night in his usual lofty manner. And, sending Sandor an assessing look and receiving a hard one in return, flashed his even teeth at a lush brunette and immediately left with her muttering something about faithfulness not being a rewarding way of life. 

Which left Lady Stark and the last of her meagre entourage alone together. Sansa smiled, suddenly shy at the large man in front of her, feeling such a pang over the fact that she couldn`t go with him that it startled her a bit. He knew, no doubt about that, looking at her with so much need burning in his slate-grey eyes, measuring her, before incredibly enough lowering them to the table top.

“I want you so much it bloody well hurts, Little Bird,” he rasped, nearly sounding threatening, “I need to fuck someone or buggering go crazy.” His lips twitched before his eyes met hers with a rudeness she`d gotten used to these last months. “As stroking myself to release obviously doesn`t work at all when I`m near you,” he added with his old menace, as if to make up for his admission.

Sansa didn`t even knew why he told her those things, but heard herself draw a ragged breath at the thought of him stroking himself nonetheless. Gods, why did she have such a hitch for that? Not knowing any courteous reply to such talk, however, she just reached out and gently caressed his hand on the table, looking him straight in the face. For a heartbeat, Sandor’s harsh features looked nearly anguished when she refused to back down, but then he swept his gaze away roughly, hiding his emotions. 

Sansa’s stomach clenched as she watched him scrutinize the serving wenches flitting around the common room, pretending to wipe tables and such, but in reality doing their best to show off their bottoms and breasts, swaying as they walked. Sandor’s eyes fastened on a young woman with hair the colour of copper, hanging in luxurious curls down her back, flirting with some merchant guards. Turning to Sansa again, his gaze was so carefully devoid of the turmoil she knew he must carry inside that she actually felt worse for him than for herself, though. 

“Shall I escort you to your room, _my lady?_ ” he rasped, sounding wry, somehow making her title feel like an accusation. 

Instead of feeling offended, Sansa smiled sadly at him. Knowing all too well that if she had been born lower she would have bedded him right then and there, married or not, thinking her septa would`ve become hysterical at the mere thought. 

“No, I can find my own way. Go to her before she joins one of those guards,” she answered, feeling utterly sad and quite proud of her own sacrifice for her house. 

He looked her straight in the eye a moment too long, before looking back at the whore, a trace of shame in his eyes turning into anger as he turned away from Sansa. And then he was off, striding across the room to where the redhead had leant herself up against the wall as she`d clearly given up on the merchant guards. Or maybe they didn`t want to pay what she asked. Trying to swallow the bitter feeling of selfish loss, Sansa had to admit that the redhead _was_ quite pretty and certainly didn`t look like the cheap whores Sansa`d seen in lesser establishments. The heavy flash of jealousy at that surprised her, and it only got worse when she couldn`t look away as Sandor approached the woman. 

Something in his posture told her he was steeling himself somehow, though, and Sansa understood a second later when she saw the expression of revulsion cross the redhead’s face before the whore schooled her face to just showing a mere trace of disgust.

Pure outrage slammed through her. Really! Sandor deserved so much better than that… that _wench’s_ revulsion. Didn`t she see his honed warrior’s body and the sheer size of him? Sansa wanted him so much it was nearly painful and this hussy managed to look at him with loathing? Sandor’s _gold_ seemed pleasing enough for the redheaded whore, however, and she started to lead the way across the common room. 

Sandor met her own gaze looking angry, frustrated and aroused all at the same time for a moment before turning, and Sansa’s heart went out to him as she watched his broad back following the woman he would find his pleasures with. _But,_ if she couldn`t give him her maidenhead, at least she could give him some support. Feeling her anger grow, she got up and walked fast to where the two of them had disappeared up the staircase. 

They stood halfway up the stairs, Sandor looking with a mixture of need and contempt down at the whore that stood before him with her arms crossed over her chest, hiding the breasts she`d just flashed around the common room.

“The price is double if you want me to pretend anything besides the fucking, that`s the rule, ser,” she said, looking petulant. 

Sandor turned at the sound of Sansa’s steps and looked like nothing suited him less than her showing up right then. Gods! She was suddenly so furious at the nerve of the wench - so obviously making him feel bad in so many ways - that all reserve left her. Falling into the most ladylike pose she could, head held high, Sansa glided up the stairs as if she was at court, seeing the pure admiration and longing in Sandor’s eyes as she walked up to them. She threw the whore a glance so icily haughty that the woman positively shrank from her gaze - and simply turned around and rose up onto her tiptoes before she could regret it, putting an arm around Sandor’s neck, gently pulling him down towards her.

His eyes widened as he obliged her, surprise changing to shock as she looked straight into his eyes and kissed him on his scarred mouth. She meant it to be light, and it _was_ for a heartbeat… but hours of intense lust for each other fanned instantly into blazing arousal as their lips met, and in moments she was kissing him heatedly up against the wall, her hands stroking up his body, feeling just how magnificently muscular he was through his clothes. He kissed her back and groaned quietly into her mouth when she smiled shyly, feeling embarrassed but bold as she licked tentatively across his upper lip, the sensation of his slick scarring so thrillingly arousing. 

Sandor wrapped his arms hard around her, pressing her towards him, his hands stroking her back, twining into her hair. Breaking that kiss cost more than she could ever have imagined, but the look on the whore’s face was more than worth it. The way her gaze shifted from Sansa to Sandor, obviously registering their equally heavy arousal for each other, the petulant expression on her face changing to curiosity and slowly developing into nearly tantalizing interest. Sansa studied the redhead, and audaciously snaked an arm around the only man she had ever really wanted, feeling how her cheeks burned, but also how his arm pressed her towards him in return as she reaching down for her money pouch. 

“You`ll pretend whatever he wants,” she chimed coldly at the whore and dropped a golden dragon down in her hand. 

The woman stared at the large sum. “I… this is too much, m’lady,” she stuttered. “I`ll be blamed for stealing, m’lady, honestly…” 

Sansa felt Sandor move slightly beside her as she stared the redhead down. “He`s worth every penny and… and you`re _lucky_ you can bed him, not having a maidenhead to guard,” she told the woman almost bitterly and turned towards Sandor again, feeling her blush deepen in this strange situation. 

He looked down at her with something unreadable in his eyes, his mouth twitching into a grin that made wryness more or less drip out of the air. “I neither need you to defend me nor pay for my whores, Sansa,” he rasped, sounding bored, but there was something nearly tender in the strange way he looked at her that told her he actually appreciated it - and that he certainly wasn`t used to someone standing up for him, even if he would never admit to it. 

She smiled at him and gently stroked his scarred jawline, feeling how her crimson cheeks glowed when he looked incredulously at her. “No, but I want to, so you can think of me when you bed her,” she said, suddenly feeling shy and sad, wanting to lie in his arms and knowing it was impossible. 

Sandor’s grin turned rueful. “Why do you think I wanted the blasted redhead in the first place, Little Bird?” he rasped and dragged her roughly towards him before he strangely hesitantly bent his neck to kiss her again. Firm and deep. Parting her lips with his tongue and making her moan into his mouth as he let it slide against her own, flinging her into panting need all over again. He moved his hips slightly up against her and she sighed softly when she felt the hardness in his breeches up against her stomach. By the _heavens…_ Sansa stroked his back tightly, wanting him so badly that she almost couldn`t breathe. 

When they reluctantly parted, the whore stood drinking them in with her eyes, looking positively wanton, as was appropriate enough, Sansa reflected... She met her gaze and saw compassion for her and lust for Sandor when the other woman let her eyes roam over him anew, suddenly admiring him. _Easy as that, as long as another woman, and a highborn lady at that, is panting up against him she can suddenly see how magnificent he is…_

“If I may be so bold, m’lady, ser… m’lord..? You could fuck me m’lord, but bring m’lady with you. It`s not my place, I know, but that way she`ll still be a maid and you`ll scarce need pretend to anything, ser?” the redhead said. 

Sandor snorted contemptuously. “Stop calling me ser, for fuck’s sake. I`m no lord, either. Highborn ladies don`t bloody rut with the likes of me, they just expect help finding their own pleasure and wind a man up until he fucking can`t walk straight,” he rasped down at the redhead, not even sounding bitter, just matter of fact. “But if you`re done playing costly now, I`ve fierce need of fucking you, thinking of her, no matter what you charge for it.” 

Sansa had felt outrage and lust slam through her equally strongly at the whore’s suggestion, but something about Sandor saying straight out that he would pretend he was bedding her turned that outrage into stirring excitement. She looked up at the large, armed man beside her: looking hard at the pretty redheaded whore in front of him, radiating danger even if he obviously needed release soon or go insane, wasn`t that what he`d told her? Sansa found him so desirable that the dull ache between her legs turned to a sharp need for stimulation. Trying to ignore the warm blush spreading in her cheeks all over again, she fought to hold on to the way her septa had taught her to address difficult situations. 

Head held high and a chill in her voice helped. Knowing she was the one amongst them with _status_ ironically enough counted for something as well. “Even though her suggestion is quite… unusual, I don`t find it offensive to be with you Sandor, I thought you knew that,” she started, clinging to her demeanor. “As long as I keep my maidenhead intact, I would like it very much to… experience more of you.” Sansa heard how her voice turned shy halfway through and cursed herself inwardly.

Feeling utterly awkward for exposing herself to Sandor like that, expecting him to mock her for it, she looked him in the eye stubbornly. He didn`t mock her, though. Instead he met her gaze longingly, breathing rapidly through parted lips, so much desire and want in his eyes that he could have been drunk for the glazed look in them. He obviously found the notion that she would like to join them so arousing that he for once in his life was rendered speechless, instantly doing the same to her.

Sandor groaned softly when she found her courage, took his arm and wordlessly followed the redhead up the stairs and into her room. It was spacious enough, but worn down, the washbasin cracked, the stool by the small window slightly lopsided. The bedding looked clean, though, and there were fresh rushes on the floor. The room somehow had an air of… _tidiness,_ despite it’s disadvantages - like the woman that lived there, actually... The whore bolted the door and Sandor turned towards Sansa, his fingers touching her hair lightly as if he wanted to grab it but thought better of it.

“Crazy Little Bird, do you really want to… ah, bugger it… Do you fucking _want_ to do this?” he muttered, dark grey eyes hard. “Have you ever even _seen_ a naked man before?” Her expression must have given her away, because he snorted softly at her. “I need to fuck this wench properly after having my cock rubbed up against you for bloody half a day’s ride and your flaming distracting gaze on me for the rest,” he continued mercilessly. “If you go through with this you`ll see me sweat and groan as I pound into a whore pretending she`s you, and probably release into all seven heavens if you are with us. Can you handle that? Look me in the eye tomorrow?” A glint of something raw flickered in his eyes before he looked like granite once more, adding a last kind of threat out of what seemed like pure habit. “This is the last buggering chance of backing out, I warn you.”

Sansa just panted up at him in return, his words slamming through her, setting every part of her on fire in lust for him. She found herself longing to see him do just that, hear him groan, get him naked, and closed the gap between them on shaky legs, tentatively reached up and laid her arms around his neck. He didn`t lower his head, though, just stared darkly down at her, obviously waiting for a reply.

“I want you so much right now, Sandor, that you make me regret my birth,” she whispered to him and managed to make him bend his stiff neck. It felt slightly unreal to slowly kiss his scarred cheek, but the thrill inside her chest as he exhaled sharply brought her back to reality, the excitement singing in her when he turned his head so his mouth brushed against hers. 

“I thought you wanted a handsome knight,” he grumbled hoarsely back.

“No, I want a vicious scarred dog with a bad temper, grey eyes and a body to die for,” she murmured honestly into his mouth, feeling shy and brave at the same time, her heavy arousal shivering in her, waiting to be let loose. It seemed to be the correct answer, as Sandor practically moaned and kissed her heatedly. 

The whore walked up to them and waited patiently until Sandor broke the kiss and turned to her. She smiled prettily at them both, so at ease in this strange situation that Sansa felt herself smile back. “My name is Ayla,” she said and curtsied in the way of peasants, smiling so sweetly in return that Sansa suddenly felt they were on the same side instead of the whore being an unknown third part. “If m’lord and m’lady would tell me what they want from me, I know from experience it will work all the better,” she said matter-of-factly. 

Sandor snorted. “I want to fuck your cunt while I have my lady in my arms.” He stretched out a hand and cupped Ayla’s breast. “Might want those teats of yours up against me, too.” It seemed that was all that needed to be said in Sandor’s opinion and he started tugging at Sansa’s laces without further ado.

Ayla, on the other hand, looked expectantly at Sansa, and it suddenly dawned on her what she would really like. “I… Ayla, can you show me… I don`t know how ones does…” her voice dropped, “I want to please him,” she whispered, mortified, to the pretty whore in front of her. Ayla smiled reassuringly at her.

“Believe me, I think you`ll please him anyway, m’lady” she said and flashed a coy smile at Sandor, “but m’lord wouldn`t mind overly much, I think, to have me showing you a couple of things.” 

Sandor smirked at them both, but let her advance on him - and Sansa watched in fascination at the way the whore seemed to glide into a pace where every movement seemed soft and graceful, but in a completely different way than her own septa-taught way of moving. Sandor for his part looked at Ayla in clear anticipation and breathed faster when she boldly unlaced her bodice and bared her upper body for him. Her breasts were lush, her nipples tightening when he raised his hands and touched her. He groaned quietly and squeezed her before stroking the side of his forefingers over her nipples, making Ayla arch her back and smile at him as she let her experienced hand slide over the bulge in his breeches. Sandor sighed deeply, nearly in relief and bucked his hips, pressing his hard manhood into her palm as she fondled him. And looked at Sansa, breathing rapidly, sending a heavy wave of intense arousal crashing through her.

She walked over to them and, feeling a strange mixture of aroused and awkward, hesitantly reached out to touch him. Ayla smiled reassuringly, though, and lay her own hand on top of Sansa’s before she started moving them over Sandor’s… cock. _That`s what men tend to call it, after all._

“Oh, seven hells, Sansa,” Sandor almost groaned, dragging her up against him, breathing raggedly into her hair as they continued to rub his… cock, _no use being prudish now._ Ayla’s hand was shaping Sansa’s around it, rubbing him gently, fingertips caressing the top of him through the fabric and making Sandor tighten his one-armed hold around her. His small sounds of pleasure was nothing less than intoxicating, and the way he bucked his hips rhythmically up into her palm removed most of her reserve. She found herself panting heavily and felt embarrassingly wet between her legs as she stroked her other hand up his magnificent body before she could control herself. The feeling of hard muscles beneath his clothes, his powerful shoulder, heavy upper arm... _Gods be good…_

Sandor’s breath hitched when she started loosening the knots that held his coat together, and chuckled into her hair when she started tugging the fabric out of his heavy swordbelt. Well, she was not an idiot, she would be dragged straight down on the floor with it if she tried to take the belt with most of his arsenal of weapons off just by herself. And, admittedly, it was somehow exciting to watch him unbuckle the broad band of leather, handling his weapons as if they didn`t weigh anything at all. He released his hold around her waist first, though, but the loss of his arm was evened out by Ayla resolutely starting to help Sansa in undressing him, the two of them dragging off his coat and tunics. It felt good being two actually, exchanging glances and plain out admiring the man between them when he stood there bare to the waist. Less... scary. 

He grinned back at them and shook his head. “I`ll bring you every bloody time I`m planning to buy myself a fuck from now on, Sansa, never seen a whore leer at me before,” he rasped and tugged her towards him again.

“Don`t underestimate yourself, m’lord,” Ayla murmured cheekily, pairing up with Sansa as a matter of course as they pushed the all too willing man down onto the bed. 

Landing in a tangle on the bed ignited all three of them at once, apparently. Sandor gasped in pleasure as Sansa blushingly put his hands on her breasts, hearing her own instant moan in return at the sensation. The way he moved his hands and pinched her nipples through the fabric of her bodice with that odd _gentleness_ he sometimes showed, made her squirm in anticipation. And then he started undressing her in turn, opening her laces and pushing up her skirts... _Is this how it`s supposed to feel?_ The all-consuming sensation burning through her veins and down between her legs was just so… so much more than anything she`d experienced before. _No wonder the septas watch over highborn girls like hawks…_

Ayla pressed her breasts towards him as she laid him down on his back, kissing his neck with a sensuality that made Sansa envious until Sandor kissed _her_ heatedly in response, sliding a hand up her thigh and stroking her lightly between her legs. Pleasure and need slammed through her and she moaned shakily into his mouth, obviously getting him into a new level of lust as he reacted tightening his grip around her and bucking his hips towards her, gasping as he did so. 

Sansa only broke the kiss to get her dress off in a hurry, watching as Ayla kissed and licked her way down Sandor’s broad chest and muscular stomach, unlacing his breeches with professional precision. She felt an intruder for under a heartbeat before lust and curiosity got the best of her, watching in fascination as the other woman freed his cock. He groaned deeply at her advances, but had his eyes fastened on Sansa with a hunger that reverberated inside her chest. Kicking her underskirts carelessly off the bed, she broke their gaze and studied the long, broad shaft of his harden even more under her scrutiny - and sighed in heavy arousal at watching Ayla fold her hand around him, starting to stroke. 

Her sigh might possibly have sounded a bit louder than intended as the Sandor managed to laugh softly in his hoarse way at her, but threw her a rueful grin when Sansa stared hard at him, breathing raggedly enough to be disarming. Well, she had just told him how she didn`t want that knight in shining armour, hadn`t she... Ayla just grinned at her and lay down on one side of Sandor as Sansa took the other, trying not to feel indignant. The way Sandor groaned and moved his hips in pace with the whore’s hand was certainly making other feelings expand again, and his lips parting as he panted in pleasure had her melting all over again. And then his arms were surrounding her, his hand twining into her hair, his mouth found her neck, kissing her oh so deliciously, his free hand loosening laces and dragging off her smallclothes, stroking her breasts. 

Sansa felt the soaring, burning need he created in her swipe all shyness, irritation and embarrassment away. He obviously found her more than arousing, responded heavily at hearing her noises, and really... there was something thrillingly wonderful in seeing this large, intimidating man moan in response to her touch, eyes hazy with want as he kissed her, touched her in return, tried to please her. 

She let her own hands stroke over his impressive body, fingers tracing heavy, defined muscles, caressing old and new scars crisscrossing his hot skin, her nails scraping through the hair on his chest, following the dark stripe down his stomach before she hesitated. Did she actually dare...? Smiling against his lips she swallowed the small pang of anxiety and proceeded.

He groaned loudly into her mouth when her hand reached all the way down to his cock and Ayla advanced from the right to fold Sansa’s hand around his shaft instead of her own, helping her find the right amount of pressure and showing her the rhythm. Sitting up in bed, Sansa looked at what she was doing with arousal pulsing through her, loving the sight of Sandor laying groaning under her hand. He watched what she was doing too, with pure grey lust burning in his eyes and pleasure painted across his face, moving his hips in pace with her hand.

“Kiss him,” she said to Ayla, the image of looking on as Sandor was with a woman, how he looked with _herself,_ rendering her breathless in want. Ayla smiled coyly at Sandor’s surprised expression, before getting rid of her dress and sliding herself over his body, caressing him with her breasts, making his cock move in Sansa’s hand. And then the other woman kissed him, hot and deep, lush lips sliding with soft precision over Sandor’s scarred mouth. Ayla whimpered as their tongues slid against each other when they changed sides, and was rewarded with a deep groan and a large hand caressing her breast, squeezing her, pinching her nipple. 

Sansa let all of her upbringing be damned and reached down to touch herself, trying to stifle her soft moan as she spread her wetness and started moving her fingers in pleasing circles in pace with her other hand’s stroking of Sandor’s cock - dimly noticing how he seemed to be wet as well. Looking up, she saw Sandor’s fingers buried deep in Ayla’s… cunt, still kissing her passionately as she moved her hips rhythmically over his hand, moaning in what seemed like genuine pleasure.

“I want your touch, too,” she whispered and let go of his cock with reluctance. Loosening the arm he had around the whore gently, she put his fingers to her wet and aching cunt, making Sandor moan helplessly as she bent down and kissed him heatedly together with Ayla. Her lips touched the whore’s soft ones as well as Sandor’s firm lips, the scarring feeling slick, but by the Maiden how thrilling. It felt so strangely right that she got his scarred side, actually, so she kissed the twisted scar tissue of his cheek, something warm expanding in her when she felt the small shiver running through his body, felt him pause. He turned his face towards her almost searchingly and groaned when their lips met, just the two of them, before he continued lightly stroked her nub with his thumb, teasing her entrance with his fingers in return almost... Had he been any other man she would have said caringly, but... 

The whore backed off and grinned impishly at Sandor before raising herself and urging Sansa up to her. Sandor removed his hand from the whore’s cunt and started stroking himself instead, using the same pace as his rhythmic, feather-light rubbing of Sansa’s womanhood. She looking dazedly at Ayla, overwhelmed by the strange moment before, but soon whimpering in pleasure as she just needed to spread her legs only a little wider, sitting on her knees and having trouble to focusing on anything else other than the intense pleasure he was sending through her.

Ayla stroked her hands down Sandor’s hard, flat stomach and kissed him open-mouthed down towards where his hand moved up and down his shaft, making Sansa feel how he rubbed her nub a bit harder as his expectations obviously grew the closer the whore's lips came to his cock. She ended up panting breathlessly as he moaned out loud when Ayla’s lips spread over the head of him, her hand taking over stroking the root of him as she slowly took him deep in her mouth.

There was something incredible arousing to watch the way she sucked him as he fucked slowly in and out of his mouth, her tongue licking the head of him, licking and kissing him wetly down his cock before taking him deep in her mouth again. Sandor positively writhed in pleasure, a small noise escaping his lips for every rapid exhale of breath as he clearly tried to hold on to pleasing Sansa with his fingers. It was too much to ask, apparently, and before Sansa knew what was happening, he`d roughly grabbed her hips and lifted her on top of him, turning her towards Ayla’s delicious sucking of his cock as he spread Sansa’s legs. Laughing in a mixture of surprise and arousal at his casual display of strength, she didn`t quite understand what he was up to before he`d pushed her down on his stomach and let his breath caress her cunt.

But by the seven… that anything could feel so agonizingly good as his tongue sliding hotly over her nub… She moaned loud and clear and fisted the sheets on either side of his hips, arching as he held _her_ hips tight with one hand and caressed her breast gently with the other. Ayla grinned at her over Sandor’s glistening wet cock, right in front of her, and Sansa moved an inch forwards so she could lick over the head of it. Tasting him, feeling Sandor’s tongue teasing her nub, flicking over her before he kissed her right _there,_ sucking gently at her, grazing her with his teeth.

They moaned equally loud, and equally strangeled - his hips bucking up so she could put him fully in her mouth, sucking the head of him as Ayla kissed and licked the underside of him, her experienced hands stroking the root of him with one hand and caressing his balls with the other. Sansa didn`t know what to do with her own hands, but thought it no more than common courtesy to give something back. So she caressed Ayla tentatively over one breast, squeezing the firm softness of it and, on the strange wave of lust that expanded in her, pinched the rosy nipple. Just as Sandor stuck his tongue inside her.

All three of them seemed to react at the same time, Sandor groaned loudly and froze as Sansa rubbed her cunt into his face, desperately wanting more and moaning shakily in pleasure together with the other woman on top of him. Ayla stopped pleasing him instantly and gently pushed Sansa away from his deliciously large and hard cock.

“Easy m’lord…” Ayla murmured smilingly. “Come, m’lady, I think m’lord would like to get his wish now.” 

Sandor laughed darkly but quite breathlessly at that, and watched in such a wonderful _anticipation_ as Ayla guided Sansa so she straddled his stomach, creating a hot spark of the same inside her. Moving Sandor’s hand with a sureness that somehow impressed her, the other woman placed his thumb over Sansa’s aching nub again, the heavy rise and fall of the massive Sandor’s chest creating a thrilling stimulus in itself. 

“Remember she needs that maidenhead m’lord,” Ayla said with a disarming smile at the man underneathe them, who lay there looking like he`d received the greatest gift of his life - a glazed look to his grey eyes as he stared at Sansa’s breasts bobbing above him. 

He reached out and put his free hand to what he obviously found too delicious not to touch, making her moan as he thumbed her nipple. The sensation between that and his thumb flicking over her wet nub created the last intensely flowing build-up to her release, pleasure whirling hotly in her entire body.

“Wait,” she gasped, “I want to release together with you.” Sandor groaned in clear desperation and Sansa turned just in time to see Ayla straddle his hips and slide herself slowly down on his cock, moaning softly as she did so, overlapped by Sandor’s breathless grunt of heavy pleasure. The other woman half-closed her eyes and started moving her hips, rolling them so incredibly alluringly, making Sandor start bucking his hips up to meet her, thrusting into her rhythmically. 

“Sansa, look at me,” he breathed hoarsely, and she turned as he started pleasing her again, rubbing her nub insistently, _right_ there where her pleasure built like an avalanche, Ayla’s arm embraced her from behind to caress her other breast as well, making Sansa notice that she pleased herself with her fingers as she fucked Sandor harder, faster, making him moan helplessly as he obviously started to lose control.

Ayla peaked first, arching behind Sansa, her fingers pinching Sansa’s nipples hard, her husky moan so exciting that Sansa barely noticed the slight widening of Sandor’s eyes before he convulsed beneath her, rubbing her nub harder as she instantly slammed into release, too. The heavy stab of pleasure sent waves of agonizing bliss pulsing through her, taking her breath away and making her unable to move as her body arched. Her mouth opened and she heard herself moan long and shakily as both Sandor and Ayla pinched her nipples deliciously hard, moaning and groaning together with her. 

The look on Sandor’s face as he writhed under her only heightened Sansa’s sky-high peak. He met her eyes in the middle of their triple release with something akin to vulnerability mixing into the intense pleasure in his usually hard, grey eyes. Creating something tender between them again, making Sansa lie down on top of him and kiss him passionately, honestly, _lovingly_. He groaned hoarsely into her mouth and grabbed her hair instead of her breast, fisting it as he pressed her towards him and lifted both his moaning women up from the mattress, thrusting hard into Ayla a long final time. 

They fell apart gasping for breath, Sandor’s seed glistening wetly on Ayla’s thigh as she lay down beside them. She smiled brilliantly to Sansa and Sansa grinned back, so sated that she felt lazy beyond anything she`d experienced before.

“Seven hells, you two make a man happy he was born,” Sandor gasped, “you bloody released the both of you! Show me a bugger that can withstand _two_ helplessly moaning redheads fucking him senseless without peaking up through all seven heavens at once, and I`ll show you a eunuch eating his own lack of balls!”

Sansa laughed at him, feeling so relieved and free, the pleasant realisation of knowing him so much better now than she`d done before, actually feeling flattered that he desired her so much, so intensely. “I think you`ll need to stay close, Sandor. I`m going to be a political bride and need lots of comforting after my wedding night…” she murmured.

He grinned ruefully at her and dragged her on top of him again, before hesitantly kissing her lips once more, as if he didn`t know if she would still want to kiss him now that their game was done. She kissed him back slowly, savouring the feeling of his body against hers, and stroked his hair away from his scarred cheek, finding him oh so desirable just as he was.


End file.
